


Obsession

by Valleria99



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Assassins & Hitmen, Continental Hotel (John Wick), Hotel Sex, Killing, M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut, professional courtesy given
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valleria99/pseuds/Valleria99
Summary: John Wick can't seem to get the hitman Cassian out of his head and the more time passes, the less he wants to either. So maybe, once the Santino D'Antonio situation is dealt with...Caution, hot male sex ahead, you have been warned ;P





	Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> Hey theree!  
> So, I recently rewatched the John Wick movies, fell in love with the idea of a John/Cassian pairing, did not find one and so had to write about it myself xD  
> This might stay a oneshot, or I might continue it, depending on my muse.

“Consider it a professional courtesy.”

The stoic killer’s lips twisted into the parody of an amused smile as he turned around and left his only friendly human acquaintance behind with a knife protruding from his chest. Cassian gave a smile mirroring John’s and got up slowly, careful not to disturb the blade which was pressed against his artery to keep him alive.

John had always been fascinated by the other killer. Even while he danced around Santino D’Antonio to exact yet another ploy of deadly vengeance, all he could think of were the blazing eyes of Cassian.  

“Do not do it, Jonathan,” Winston plead with him. A calculating look rushed across the hitman’s face and he gave an acknowledging nod. Santino seemed extraordinarily pleased by that and smirked smugly, preparing a taunt for the younger man, when he suddenly found himself dragged outside the security of the Continental. Panic bubbled up within his chest and he screamed for help.

John gave a vindictive chuckle as he heard the whimpering creature's pleas for mercy. Ridiculous, as if he would ever grant anyone such a frivolous thing. 'You did it for **him** ,’ his traitorous thoughts supplied, but he shoved them away quickly. No time for that now, the killer told himself firmly, shutting all thoughts of Cassian into a little box with the ease of abundant practice; he had, after all lived quite a long while in his little world of denied feelings by now.   

Finally in front of the building, he pulled out his current gun and fired a bullet straight into the other’s brain. The resulting silence seemed a godsend.

 

* * *

 

Sitting within the ruins of his home, his life, petting his faithful dog, he let go of his deceased wife's necklace and made a decision. He would no longer run from his past, present or future.

The (not quite so) little box within his mind was dredged up and he finally allowed himself to think about the man he had been fascinated with for such a long time now.

To think about the way the other's eyes seemed to light up during a heated discussion and the condescending little smile he always wore when he thought John was being stupid again. How John would have crushed anyone else that dared to show such a blatant form of disrespect yet could not help himself but find it endearing when coming from the other hitman.

Closing his eyes, John remembered the way Cassian’s skin glistened with sweat after a throughout workout, clothes in disarray and breath coming in slightly irregular puffs. He could almost see him standing before him now, torso bare but for the white bandages around his strong chest where he had stabbed him just hours before. John licked his lips hungrily as his heated gaze followed a trickle of blood down chiselled pectorals until it reached the loose jogging pants sitting askew on slim hips. The V shape leading to the other man's most precious parts of anatomy was clearly pronounced in the waning light and the lithe killer had to swallow harshly.

Before he could reach out with the calloused hand of someone knowing  hard work, to touch what he had been coveting for so long, he was ripped out of his fantasy.

Measured footsteps fell lightly upon the singed earth where his house had once stood and John turned around calmly, his stony countenance not letting on what he had just been thinking about.

In front of him stood the unmoving form of Charon, impeccably dressed as always. Intrigued, John raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have been given the task of bringing you to Winston.”

A grim nod was the only response Charon got and a short drive later, he was seated next to the wizened manager of the shadow world. Sipping his drink calmly, he looked at the other man expectantly.

“Cassian arrived here three hours ago.”

John lost his indifferent demeanour for the sliver of a second, as his eyes widened fractionally.

“Is that so,” he asked nonchalantly, mask firmly back in place.

Winston shot him a calculating gaze, obviously having caught the other's slip-up. Instead of answering, he stood up and motioned for the younger man to follow him.

Their footsteps were muffled by the thick carpet as they made their way to the second floor. Tasteful paintings and fragile lamps decorated the burgundy walls of the long corridor they were passing through.

Finally, Winston stopped in front of the second to last door and motioned for John to enter. Before he could thank the man, Winston had already begun his trek back to the lavish salon they had come from.

John shrugged mentally and knocked on the oaken door. After he was bidden to enter by a smooth voice that sent a shiver of delight down his spine, he turned the knob and crossed the threshold.

Inside were the expected colour schemes of dark reds, light greys and an unfathomable black with lush carpets and, dare he say it, cosy lighting. The first thing that caught his eye after checking for possible escape roots was a dark couch in the centre of the suite. Or rather the broad figure seated upon it.

Cassian held a glass of gin in his left hand, while the right one was carelessly sprawled along the backrest. He was dressed in the same loose sweatpants and crisp bandages John had imagined before, his bare feet buried within the red carpet. An inviting smirk was plastered onto the injured man's face as he beckoned the smaller male forward. Without hesitation John followed the thinly veiled command until he stood in front of the couch, close enough to touch the other.

“You realise that you will be punished for stabbing me, do you not?”

John swallowed harshly as he found a glint in the brown eyes he had never let himself hope to see within their bottomless depth. Lust. Shakily, the myth among killers nodded, knees growing weak.

A pleased smirk was the response to his obvious submission and strong hands dragged him closer until he lost his balance and landed in a warm lap.

“You can't imagine how long I've waited for this day,” Cassian growled into his ear “How long I've waited for you to finally acknowledged the tension between us for what it is.” A soft keen escaped John's lips as he felt the vibrations of the words being spoken against the sensitive skin of his nape and he shivered in anticipating delight.

Strong hands trailed down the back of his suit jacket, and John gave another sound of desperation, too far gone already to care about his reputation. Not here, not with Cassian. This was what he had always wanted. To give up control to another completely, knowing he would not be betrayed.

Cassian seemed to sense his line of thought, as he gave a pleased growl and finally claimed his plump lips with his own slightly chapped ones. There was no hesitant gentleness in this kiss, just an overwhelming feeling of claiming, belonging and unrestricted passion.

After a short battle of wills, carried out by their tongues, John did what his insides were screaming for. He let himself go. As Cassian dominated their kiss, John forgot all the worries that had plagued him in recent times. His wife. His dog. His car. His house. Nothing seemed important anymore, except for the burning of another body pressed against his own, the hands squeezing his arse and the insistent lips against his own.

John’s haze of pleasure was briefly disrupted when his companion broke their kiss apart, only to descend on him once more, those full lips attaching themselves to the sensitive skin of his jaw, trailing down along his pulse line.

As he grinded down his hips he was pulled immeasurably closer, a light bite against his throat eliciting an incoherent moan.

Cassian drew away again and looked at the other man earnestly, waiting for the clouded eyes to focus on him.

“If we do this, there will be no turning back. You will belong to me. Body, mind and soul.”

John blinked at him, visibly clearing his head, then he answered his soon to be lover in a husky voice.

“I have always been yours.”

Looking into his eyes, Cassian seemed to search for something. John stared back at him, impassive mask firmly in place, trying to hide his vulnerability.

Suddenly, warm lips were attached to his own again and he was stripped of his jacket, tie and shirt following immediately.

Finally, their hot skin slid together and John clutched onto bare shoulders, seeking to get even closer to the other man.

In one smooth motion Cassian stood up, holding up the other easily.

After a short trek filled with heated kisses and blunt nails dragging against sensitive flesh, they reached the king-sized bed.

John was dropped unceremoniously onto the silken sheets, while Cassian remained standing, devouring the debauched figure draped across his bed with lust filled eyes. The younger man smiled sultrily and started undressing further, finally disposing of his shoes and socks in a smooth motion that lacked the usual mood killing unsexyness one would expect when tasked with something so mundane.

Within seconds, the human predator had descended upon his willing prey once more, caging him in with strong arms.

John gave an involuntary moan as Cassian’s thigh pressed down on his pelvis and arched into the other man.

“Please, I need…,” the proud Hitman gasped, throwing aside his decorum in a haze of pleasure.

The elder seemed to appreciate the near-begging as he pressed his lips against a sensitive ear, muttering in low, dulcet tones “What do you need, mi Sombra?”.

“Y-you, I need you so much!”

“Where do you need me?”

The question was followed by a teasing roll of hips, eliciting another suppressed moan and the final breaking of any restraints John still had had.

“I need you in me, Cassian! Fuck me, fill me, use me!”

Upon seeing the delirious state his partner seemed to be lost in, Cassian gave a wide smirk and pushed his fingers into the hot cavern displayed so beautifully in a desperate pant. John sucked on the digits eagerly, swirling his tongue around them to get them dripping wet, knowing he would get no other lubrication.

Too soon and not soon enough the fingers were withdrawn from his mouth, but before he could offer any complaints, it was filled again with an insistent tongue and the wet fingers circled his hole teasingly. Slowly, the first digit pushed past the resisting rim into the spasming warmth beyond. After a few moments of searching, he found that spot deep inside and John arched of the bed with a desperate moan.

Soon, two more fingers joined the first and John was reduced to a moaning mess, incoherently begging for more.

Cassian obliged and pulled his fingers out, replacing them with his nine-inch cock. With a smooth thrust, he buried himself deep into the other and started rolling his hips, each jab meeting the bundle of nerves dead-on.

John lost himself in a haze of pleasure, welcoming every thrust with relish and incomprehensible moans.

After a while of mind numbing pleasure, something coiled in his stomach and he knew that he was about to come.

“Cassi-ah-n I’m nnh I’m close,” he keened in a high and needy voice.

“Come for me, Sombra”

His body tightened and spasmed as he came, the increased pressure sending his lover over the edge as well and he moaned at the feeling of hot fluid gushing into him.

As they came down from their pleasure high, the two professional killers laid next to each other, breathing heavily.

“We have to do that again,” John declared with an uncharacteristic giggle and a soft look in his eyes that melted Cassian’s heart. He was pulled into a strong chest, arms wrapping tightly around him.

“Yes, we do. And we have plenty of time for that, as I’m never letting you go, Tesoro.”

John smiled and cuddled into his future.

**Author's Note:**

> sombra: spanish for shadow  
> tesoro: spanish for treasure


End file.
